Wild strawberry
by Litaraniel
Summary: ...Because Dee loves plants, and suceeds in his projects. Oneshot. Vesca/Dee. Slash, light, not graphic.


Disclaimer: _All "Petshop of Horrors", "Shin Petshop of Horrors" characters and plot belong to the esteemed Akino Matsuri. No monetary gain out of it, just my own selfish pleasure._

_The thing for Vesca to call his nemesis 'Dee' belongs to whoever did this first. _

_The underlying idea has been done before, darn. Found out when finishing this. I plead not guilty._

* * *

Dee's got no roommates, a whole room to himself, it just figures. Maybe that's why Vesca spends entirely too much time in his company. Or maybe it's because Dee wouldn't leave him alone, and his excuses are perfect to a fault. Or maybe it's because one of them had saved the other's life, and only the two of them actually know who.

It is a relatively warm day in the beginning of spring, and a reminder of the event. Another generation of Dee's blind birds just laid eggs, and he shines like a lantern, dragging Vesca to the lab to show off the nest. Vesca Howell must be going mad to enjoy the look of excited satisfaction on Dee's dangerously deceitful face, but there's something deeply engaging in seeing real, uncontrolled emotion light those weirdly coloured, exotic eyes that are usually so cold and unreadable. It's almost… addictive. And beautiful. Vesca shouldn't be thinking that, but the fact remains.

When they get back, there's a box by Dee's door, a delivery. Another plant. A tiny dark-green bunch of triple leaves with zigzag edges. Dee places the pot on his table, under a mild UV lamp, and at Vesca's inquiry explains, in slightly exasperated voice, that it's wild strawberry and he's going to see if he can encourage it to bloom in unlikely circumstances. He soon returns to triumphant rambling about his recent success, going as far as pacing along the room, gesturing animatedly, his face and eyes filled with emotion again, long hair flying fluidly around him. When at one point Dee stops and looks at Vesca, silently imploring to share his elation, the touched, almost awed look in his eyes pierces the American student to the core.

There's something special about this sincere expression, something wonderful, something magical, and suddenly Vesca finds himself holding Dee by the shoulders, lips touching the corner of Dee's mouth. He leans back, looking into those amethyst eyes, and is frozen for a moment, because Dee lashed out for lesser offences, reducing girls and even guys to miserable messes, often in tears.

Dee gives him a mysterious smile, neither encouraging nor mocking, and proceeds as if nothing happened.

* * *

Vesca really shouldn't be surprised to find Dee in the park on such a day. Many trees are blooming, the weather is calm and warm, the air rich with the flowers' scent. Dee is located under a tree most covered in blossoms, an oddly tranquil expression on his face. He's wearing a kimono-like thing instead of his usual longshirt-like thing with Mandarin collar, and looks like a painting on one of those Asian scrolls with sakura flowers. Vesca makes the mistake of telling him that.

In the next few minutes, Dee explains in no uncertain terms that Chinese people traditionally watch plum blossoms, not sakura, he's wearing a 'hanfu', not a kimono, and Americans are obnoxiously ignorant. By the time he ends Vesca is red with angry embarrassment.

Unexpectedly, Dee softens after that. He explains about a tree called _Prunus mume_, also known as Chinese plum and Japanese apricot, and referred to as 'plum' in English, but more closely related to apricot. He tells about blossoms in the snow, their fragile beauty and symbolic significance.

Dee's voice, beautiful as it is, acquires almost magical quality as he relates those things, painting images in Vesca's mind. Vague, but strangely touching images of a faraway land, strange people, foreign customs; a different, fragile, exotic world. The secluded spot under the blooming tree, Dee's tale and his historic outfit play together, accenting Dee's fluid beauty and captivating Vesca's mind. And there's that allure again, that sincere expression.

Vesca's eyes leave Dee's face only when the other finally stops talking. The very first thing Vesca notices then is how this new outfit shows the dip between Dee's collarbones. He can't help staring a bit. Dee intercepts the glance and gives him a look that is most definitely an invitation. It's abnormal that those violet eyes can speak a language of their own; it's abnormal that a guy can do things like that to Vesca; everything about Dee is abnormal. Yes, Vesca must be going mad… Still, he gives in.

Back in Dee's room, his little plant is blooming too. It catches Vesca's attention enough to make him pause and express his amazement, somewhere between kissing Dee's neck and trying to loosen up the 'hanfu' thing a bit.

"But of course, Vesca," Dee purrs. "I succeed in all of my projects."

Not much later, Vesca somehow finds himself walking towards his own room, still not closer to the secret of unravelling the silk garment, a goofy expression on his face nonetheless. His roommate is sound asleep and cannot call him on that, which is fortunate. Although, no one would suspect Dee. No one ever does.

* * *

Next time he notices the little plant is when one evening he isn't removed from Dee's room by some mysterious force. Dee has vanished into the bathroom to "refresh himself" and change into "night clothes", and Vesca's sitting on Dee's bed, a little dazzled, so he absently stares at the potted thing. There are no flowers anymore; the petals have fallen, leaving tiny light-green sour-looking berries in their wake.

Dee's "night clothes" aren't much different from his day ones, only lighter and with less embroidering. He falls asleep almost before saying "Goodnight, Vesca", has no qualms against using Vesca as a pillow and manages to occupy more space in bed than should be physically possible. Dee's face is so calm and content in his sleep that Vesca can't bring himself to complain. He lies awake for several hours, running Dee's smooth black locks through his fingers, wishing he had the foresight to use the "refreshment" excuse to take care of the, uh, distraction that wouldn't let him rest. He falls asleep to the thought that Dee had probably used up the hot water, anyway.

They're spotted leaving Dee's room together in the morning. The rumour mill runs amok. Glances and whispers follow Vesca everywhere, and he wonders how Dee's doing, until he remembers, come on, it's Dee, he never gets into situations he doesn't want.

In the lunch break Albert starts a fight, which Vesca wins. By evening, he's cradling his swollen sprained wrist and doesn't have notes for half of his classes. It's Friday; Vesca hopes he'll be able to write after the weekend.

Fifteen minutes and a dozen smiles later, Dee has a best set of notes available for Vesca's subjects on this day. By midday on Saturday, the relevant portions are transferred to Vesca's notebooks in Dee's neat handwriting. When they go to sleep in Sunday, Vesca's hand had stopped aching, and he has better reasons to feel dazzled than just not being sent on his way to his own room.

In Monday they learn that Albert has been hospitalized with anaphylactic shock from being stung by a hornet.

Dee's smile is calm and serene.

* * *

The strawberries are ripe on the evening after their final end of term exam. Dee snaps long stalks at the base with his nails and brings them to Vesca's face, one by one, making the berries touch his lips. They taste fresh, fragrant and sweet. The last one Dee leaves for himself, slowly reaching the treat with slightly open mouth, breaking it between his lips, covering them with glistering juice. He then smiles his sweet, cruel, infuriating, alluring smile and leans in, placing pale hands on Vesca's shoulders lightly, and Vesca can pull him into a kiss. And into the bed.

In the back of his mind, Vesca notes that Dee never kisses him first. Ever.

In the morning, Dee is gone. From the room. From the university. From the city. From Vesca's life.

* * *

Vesca doesn't know what he wants to find in Dee's room. It's been a few days. Aside of several things that got gone with Dee (fancy Chinese clothes and elaborate observation notes), everything is left behind, but he never kept anything personal there anyway. Nothing that could give a key to at least a part of the mystery that he is.

That pot is still on Dee's table, next to piles of textbooks and printed papers. The little shrub is alive, but looks worse for wear. No one was here to water Dee's plants for the past few days. Vesca doesn't know why he decides to take it. Maybe because it looks so miserable and abandoned.

"That was all he wanted with you, huh?" Vesca says, picking up the pot and turning to leave. He isn't entirely sure if he means the plant, or himself.

As he leans to lock the door outside, he notices a white label on the side of the pot that must have been turned to the wall.

The label reads:

"_Fragaria Vesca_."


End file.
